Make a Wish
by Apollo's Lady
Summary: When did Sam learn about making wishes?  A short scene from a simple moment in the young Winchester family.  Based on season one, Provenance.


_Hello. Thanks for checking the story out. I'm testing the waters. (grin / blush) I'm not new to writing fanfic, just Supernatural. Jeesh, watch the show once, ya get hooked. There are some amazing stories here._

_My thanks to Silwyna for encouraging me and letting me test the waters with my stories at her site. Now, it's time to see if I'm on to anything by posting in the big pond. (Just hope I didn't forget any of the pesky formatting rules… editing is such a pain once it's posted.)_

_It is a wee-chester story. I'm a big fan of realistic whumpage, but I also NEED to know that this family had moments of sheer, giggling, joy._

_I hope you enjoy it._

**Make A Wish**

Dean glanced toward the payphone his father was using. "Sammy, sit down and be patient. Dad's gonna get mad that you're bouncin' all around." In truth, he was just as impatient.

Young Sam Winchester, recently turned five years of age, tried hard to comply with his older brother's request. "But DEAN… You see it. It's right across the street. We have to GOOOOO!"

Dean rolled his eyes at the whiny tone his little brother's voice took. "We can't go. Dad told us to wait here and here we're going to wait. I don't want a repeat of last time."

"BUT DEAN!!!"

Dean whirled around to face Sam. "Knock it off! Dad's making his call and then we're going in to get some dinner. That's it and don't you dare ask for more."

Sam's eyes changed from soft brown to blurry pools of water at his brother's sharp words. His little chin trembled as he tried to buck up. "Think I can get chicken nuggets at dinner?"

Dean rolled his eyes, wishing his brother had the wisdom he possessed at the mature age of nine. Sam was addicted to the nuggets. He assumed all restaurants served them. That might be an indication of how often the Winchesters ate at the golden arches. Dean and their father were burger fans. Neither understood the youngest male's affinity for the diced up poultry. John Winchester had begun to restrict Sam's nugget intake for fear of him swaying too far from his Winchester genetics. Burgers were solid and not the least bit questionable. Sam needed to learn right and wrong.

Dean knew his father's mind. "Maybe if they have them. Make sure you order milk instead of pop. It'll soften dad up."

Sam's eyes glowed at the advice. "Thanks, Dean. That's real smart."

Dean shook his head. "Just remember that, Sammy. Big brothers are always smarter."

Sam nodded eagerly.

The driver's side door snapped open suddenly. "Ok, boys. Let's get some grub and then we'll hit the road. Pastor Jim confirmed the information and we'll get a decent start before dark."

The young Winchester brothers eagerly scrambled to clear the car and hurried after their father into the small diner. They took their usual seats at a standard booth in the far corner. John took one side and Sam slid in next to Dean.

The plump, brassy-haired waitress pounced on them, delivering one adult and two children's menus on placemats that the boys could color. Dean scowled at something he considered childish, but Sam grasped excitedly at the meager collection of crayons.

"Can I bring you something to drink while you decide?" She asked brightly.

"Coffee for me, black." John looked to Dean. The boys knew very well what they were and weren't allowed to drink.

"May I have a cola, please?" Dean always added an extra dose of polite when trying for a soda.

The waitress turned to John for approval and he nodded.

She wrote it down and turned back to Sam. "A soda for you too, cutie?"

Sam looked up from his colors, scowling. "My name's not cutie." At his father's mild growl, he corrected himself. "I'd like some milk please."

John was startled at Sam's request. Normally, his youngest ordered or tried to order, whatever his brother got to drink. He'd already determined he's be dealing with a sugar-loaded set of boys for the evening drive. He hadn't minded, as he knew it would allow them a little more time on the road before the two crashed. "Milk, Sammy?"

Sam beamed, knowing instantly he'd pleased his father. He also knew his brother had been right, yet again. Dean was the bestest. "It sounded good."

John nodded. "What'll it be to eat then?" Dean could read his own menu. Even though John and Dean had begun teaching Sam, an entire menu was too much for him. John reached across and tilted Sam's menu so he could read it. He started to list the options, but stopped at Sam's cough.

"Do they have chicken nuggets?"

John stifled a groan at his baby's request. Sam didn't know he had different smiles yet, but John met two large brown eyes that melted into a huge, enchanting grin. He'd often been forced to curse that smile. It was hardest to resist. "They have chicken strips." He glanced to his eldest and wondered how two boys could be so different. He was feeling weak. "Would you like those?" Besides, strips were chicken, not mystery pieces congealed together, much closer to burgers.

Sam bounced eagerly on his seat. "Yes, sir!"

The waitress returned and the orders were placed. Dean asked a few questions about the upcoming hunt and to where they were heading. Meanwhile, Sam's eyes kept glancing out the window. His body didn't seem capable of stillness.

The bouncing that had begun earlier in the car continued until Dean reached out and settled his arm across Sam's puny shoulders. "Knock it off!" he growled quietly.

Sam frowned. He tried sitting still by returning to his colors, but he was soon finished. Knowing the bouncing would not be allowed, he began to sway back and forth and side to side.

After what seemed like hours to Dean, but in reality only a few moments, Dean shoved his brother away, perhaps a bit more harshly than he should have.

"Ouch! You didn't have to push me, Dean!" Sam complained and then glanced to his father for support. John was busy jotting notes in his journal and seemed oblivious to his sons' activities.

Scowling at Dean's apparent success, Sam again willed his body to sit still, but nothing worked. He began to kick his short legs against the seat, wishing his food would at least come.

Each strike against the booth sent a small ripple across the bench and Dean was becoming more and more annoyed. "SAM!"

John looked up from his journal. He was trying to get his work done, knowing full well what his sons really wanted. He was always aware of his surroundings. There just wasn't time. "Is there a problem?"

Dean growled loudly this time. "Sammy won't sit still. He's driving me crazy."

Sam didn't defend himself. He was already occupied with a new problem. There was something in his eye. He tilted and twisted his head in odd directions, hoping to rid himself of the distraction. Nothing worked.

"Sammy," John reached across the table and captured his son's chin. "What's wrong?"

Through pouting lips, Sam made his report. "I gots somethin' in my eye and it won't come out."

John tilted Sam's face to him and saw the problem. From this distance, he couldn't easily help. "Come on over and sit with me, Sammy. I'll take care of that for ya."

Sam slid off the seat, but his eyes were wide with fear. "Is it a demon, dad?" His voice dropped to a whisper as he neared his father. "Has a demon got my eye?"

John chuckled at the comment, indicating all too well how he was raising his sons. "Nope… You're your own problem, kiddo." He reached out and scooped Sam into the seat next to him taking a fraction of a second to enjoy the physical connection with his son.

Sam's forehead contorted with confusion. "I'm a demon?"

"Nope, it's an eyelash."

Dean snorted. "Sammy's got a demon eyelash!" He giggled, quite content with himself and stretched out on the seat to further show his joy.

Sam glanced to his brother and then back to his father. "Dean's always right, dad." There was obvious fear in his voice.

John glared briefly at his eldest. "But I know even more and am more right." He depended on Dean to help with Sam. He knew he couldn't lessen his eldest son's influence on the youngest. "It's just a silly, old eyelash. It's stuck. Hold on…" He gently touched the corner of his baby's eye and pulled back with the small annoyance on his fingertip. "All better?"

Sam nodded. "I don't wanna lose no eyelashes."

John smiled. "You'll get a new one and this is good luck."

Sam scowled. Dean straightened in the seat to hear why this was such good luck.

John knew he had both his boys' attentions. "See this?" He held out his finger. "Well, you blow it off my finger and as you do, make a wish. It will come true. Your mom taught me that. She saved me from an eyelash on our first date." John's face relaxed at the memory.

"What?" Dean had never heard such a thing and couldn't help but feel a little jealous that Sam was getting to make a wish.

"I wished that your mother would fall in love and marry me." John's eyes twinkled. He had both boys rapt attention. "And that we'd have two wonderful boys." He added a wink.

Dean groaned when he saw the wink. Sam was still bemused.

John turned toward Sam. "So, Sammy. Think of something you'd like and then think the wish…"

"Just like berfday candles? I gots to keep it a secret? Did you tell mom?" Sam asked, not wanting to make a mistake.

"Just like candles. I didn't tell your mom about mine either." John replied, but he lied. He'd told Mary that same night that he loved her and that they would marry. Maybe he'd jinxed something? He shook off the thought and attended to his son. "Got your wish?"

Sam nodded eagerly.

"Then make your wish and blow."

Sam did exactly as he was told. He closed his eyes, made the wish inside his mind and puckered his lips to blow. He blew harder than necessary. He didn't want to take any chance it would stick. He watched the stray eyelash float off his father's finger and then disappear into the darkness under the booth.

Dinner came and the three ate in relative silence. John noticed the slight tension in his youngest's body. He wondered for what his son had wished. He paid the bill, sent the boys into the restroom and they all met outside by the car.

As John's hand moved to the door's handle, he watched Sam tear his eyes away from the sight across the street. When Sam looked back, there was definite sadness in his eyes. John sighed and smiled. He knew exactly what Sam's wish had been. Although the hunt loomed before him, he knew he had a chance, a chance to make one simple wish for his son come true. He didn't often see things so clearly. He couldn't waste the opportunity. He needed to offer the boys some of the magic their mother had given him.

"So, it's a nice night out, isn't it?" He didn't wait for an answer. "I'm not feeling like getting into the car and driving just now." He looked across the street. "How about we head across the street and spend some time on that playground?"

Sam and Dean broke into instant smiles. "Yes, sir." They both shouted.

After crossing the street, they both ran to the swings, each demanding to be the first pushed. Both wanted one of those dad pushes that nearly launched them to the moon.

John caught up with them and rubbed Dean on the head. "Sorry, dude. Sammy gets to go first this time."

Sam cheered. "YES! My wish did come true." As John slipped in behind him, he settled his bottom on the vinyl swing. "How can I lose another eyelash?"

**SN SN SN**

Sam laughed nervously. He liked Sarah. All the reasons he'd never told Jess about his family were staring him in the face. But then he noted a distraction. "You have a… um an eyelash on your…"

Sarah touched her eye, but in the wrong area.

"No, ah… no." Sam knew he wasn't giving her proper directions, but the words wouldn't come to him.

They both broke into laughter.

He shook his head slightly. "Do you mind if I…"

She smiled. "No."

"Okay." He touches the corner of her eye gently and then pulled his finger back as his father had done for him so many years ago. He offered his finger to her, praying she knew the way it worked and didn't think he was a dork. "Make a wish."

She smiled and blew the lash off his finger.

Sam couldn't help but hope he knew what she'd wished for…

He knew what he would have.


End file.
